I got a haircut on Wednesday, my first cut in nearly a year: 312 days, 23 hours, 30 minutes and 0 seconds to be exact. What brought me to my barber wasn’t the length of my hair, but the fact that my sideburns were beginning to curl and have a muttonchops meets Hassidic Jewish look to them. It wasn’t a good look.
And I hadn’t thought about my hairless year until Teri, my haircutter for three years now, asked me if it was emotional to get the cut. Until she had brought it up, I, in my great desire to put as much emotional distance between me and chemo/lymphoma, had totally forgotten that I hadn’t had a cut since just after chemo started last September (during chemo I could pretty much wash my hair off with soap and water and finish off with a buzzer the few chemo-resistant patches on my scalp).
So, yes, it was emotional to get the cut, but it was far, far better than the chemo-induced-no-haircut-baldness that I put up with for more than eight months.
One thought on “312 days, 23 hours, 30 minutes and 0 seconds”
i can remember your first haircut at michael’s on madison avenue in manhattan. you were one year old and had a head of hair that probably stuck up into the air by almost 8 curly inches. it was quite a sight. i was told not to cut it until you were that old. it was a jewish tradition and i went with it. well, you were young and really did not know any better and everyone loved your beautiful curly hair. and now 312 days, 23 hours, 30 minutes and 0 seconds later another haircut that did not take a year. you are a survivor in ways beyond lymphoma.
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